Green Eyed Monster
by fearmywaffles
Summary: A newly hygiene-obsessed Murdoc Niccals finds his washing supplies all torn up. Who could be the culprit?
1. Bassist Gone Mad

Murdoc was at his wit's end! Back rigid and fists coiled, he scanned the chaos that was spread across the living room floor.

He tilted his head back and let out a furious howl: "WHICH ONE OF YOU SHITS DID THIS?"

Russel and Noodle, who were baking (yes, baking) rice krispies in the kitchen, were instantly alarmed. With the little guitarist scurrying under Russ's feet, they followed the corridors to Murdoc's squawks.

"What's diggin' **YOU**, man?" Russel asked, chafed, once they'd found Murdoc standing in the middle of the room. Couldn't they have one good damn day without Murdoc throwing hissy fits?

Murdoc whipped his head at them. "JUST LOOK,_ fat parade_! LOOK AT THE FLOOR!"

And he did, too.

He saw that there were innards of sponges shredded about the place.

"I don't see what the big deal is, Mudz." The drummer gave a shrug, "Besides, you a filthy bastard! What you gonna need sponges fo'? You never so much as touch water."

Murdoc's eyes danced around the area, avoiding eye contact. Recently, he'd been extremely OCD about keeping washed. This sudden change was very worrying to the bassist, since he'd never cared about cleanliness before. Perhaps this was because he wasn't getting any decent lays due to his god-awful stench. Whatever…. all he knew was that the sight of sponge shreds was driving him BANANAS! He'd just bought those freaking things, too! The sponges' packaging was torn open, bits and pieces poking out from under the couch.

"SOD OFF, LARDARSE! I don't care!" The green stroked man snapped, turning on his heels and tramping out of the room.

Noodle, who'd been completely clueless as to what they were saying, began jabbering in Kansai-dialect Japanese.

"_Russah-chan! Wakaran. Nani yu ten no ya_?"

"Uuuh," Russel beckoned for the little girl to follow him back to the kitchen, forgetting Murdoc's tantrum. He never really understood much of what Noodle said- only bits or pieces. Still, it was polite for him to nod every now and then to let her now he was at least trying to listen. "Sure, baby girl. Let's go before the krispies burn."


	2. Sneaky, Sneaky, Lemon Squeaky

Time was getting on. All were tucked rather snugly in their beds, cozily asleep.

Except for young Noodle, of course…

The spunky girl was hopping down the corridors carelessly, dark mischief crossing her face. It wouldn't truly matter how much noise she created, since Kong was so vast, so spacious! And while the dogs were at bay, this mouser would play!

_Bing! _

Noodle punched the key to open the lift. Once inside, she hummed _Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots_, by her one of her most beloved bands: _Flaming Lips_. Russ had translated it for Noodle, and had gone on to say in very broken Japanese that the song reminded him of her. This always made her heart dance, knowing that he had her in the back of his mind somewhere.

Unexpectedly, as she was swaying forwards and back on her toes, the elevator made a jerk, causing her to stumble onto her bum. By the time it had opened, she was already back on her feet and bouncing once again through the strips of space lined with bedrooms and closets.

One had to be careful roaming these places alone. Zombies often leaked into Kong Studios, and if it weren't those pests, it would be ghosts. The latter had proved more dangerous to Noodle, when she'd learned early on that kicks and punches were **absolutely** pointless, and went straight through them.

After many flights of stairs (the elevator had made her nauseous) and halls, Noodle slid across the slick tiles of the living room. Sometimes, if she wore especially slippery socks, she could use these tiles as an ice rink. She saved those times for night mostly, so the boys wouldn't dive in to scare her while she was playing. Noodle hated being startled while skating, because last time she bashed her head on the coffee table and had needed stitches.

Skating wasn't what the lively guitarist was there for, however.

It was _THAT_!

That brand new bag carefully stashed within the flowerpot in the corner.

Whoever did this wasn't being very sly if he was trying to keep this from her—here, in this spot. Noodle found goodies in this planter all of the time, and she always squealed with delight whenever she found something new. She'd figured that someone would've found her out by now, but she supposed that whoever it was was either incredibly stupid or blind to her digging around in his things. She was like a _coon_!

With her tongue poking out, Noodle walked over and plopped down with her legs twisted behind her in a "W" shape. With eagerness, she made grabs at the bag, hefting a lump of dirt onto herself in the process.

Noodle's scissor fingers pried open the bag.

What could it be?

…

What…?

**AGAIN?**

Noodle's face dropped with disappointment. With a bored expression, she picked up the squishable, round objects, and rolled them in her palms. What were these holey things? And why did she constantly find them here? It wasn't much of a puzzle for Noodle, who'd had her hopes up for a challenge.

Frustrated, she took them in her teeth and _ripped_ them apart like a dog with unbridled energy.

Stupid!

Curse those stories, for always tricking her into thinking there was always some sort of treasure waiting for her to discover it! She tore the bits apart, and with a last hurrah, sprinkled them like snow above her head crabbily.

Noodle swiped the dirt off her jammies, got up, and headed back to bed..

Little did the guitarist know, she left a trail of dirty footprints all the way back to her bedroom…


End file.
